


Say You'll Stay Right By My Side (I'll Keep You Warm My Dear)

by Sendryl



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: Clone Wars (2003) - All Media Types, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: AU af, Bodyguard AU, Except Jango but he really wishes he was, F/M, Flirting, Fluff, Getting Together, He signed up to shoot bad guys okay, Jango did not sign up for this sappy shit, M/M, No flirting on the ship, Oblivious, Pining, Slight peril and background intrigue but that's really not what the fic is about, Snowed In, all of them - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-31
Updated: 2020-12-31
Packaged: 2021-03-11 00:14:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,208
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28476018
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sendryl/pseuds/Sendryl
Summary: Alpha-17 would like to say that being Senator Amidala's bodyguard is the easiest job he's ever had. He'd be lying through his teeth, but he'd like to be able to say it.Fox and Fives tagging along when they go on the run from her crazy ex isn't part of his plans, but he can make it work. At least he has Jango to help him out. The old man has to be good for something eventually.Wait, what's this about a sabotaged ship and a storm on Hoth?
Relationships: Alpha-17/Padmé Amidala, CT-27-5555 | ARC-5555 | Fives/CC-1010 | Fox, Padmé Amidala & Jango Fett
Comments: 8
Kudos: 58





	Say You'll Stay Right By My Side (I'll Keep You Warm My Dear)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [reyiosa](https://archiveofourown.org/users/reyiosa/gifts).



> This is my semi-sexy-secret-santa gift fic for my dear Rey, from the event on our discord server! I really enjoyed your prompt, decided to go crazy and use all your characters and pairings, and ended up with this monster. It's already spawning a sequel. orz
> 
> Backstory you should know is that Anakin went darkside after Padmé broke up with him, and occasionally attempts to either kill her or marry her. No one's really sure wtf is going on in his head, least of all him. But that's just backstory.
> 
> Anyway, enjoy the fic!

“Really, Senator?” The dry, unimpressed voice filtering through the staticky comm may make the two troopers in the ship sit up straight with wary readiness clear on both their faces, but it’s the most welcome sound Padmé’s heard all day. “This is where you decide to make a pit stop? I'm judging your taste, I hope you know.”

“Jango,” Padmé sighs, closing her eyes in relief, “You made it.”

“And not a moment too soon,” Alpha-17 adds bitingly from just over Padmé's head. “What took you so long, old man? Were you hoping we'd freeze over? Personally, I'd like to  _ avoid _ becoming an icicle.” Padmé wriggles her hand out of the pile of blankets around her and patiently pats his arm, amused despite herself, and he lets out a clearly-frustrated breath through his nose in response, gently and firmly taking her hand and tucking it back into the cocoon of warmth around them. He’s the biggest of them all, and definitely generates the most body heat, so it makes sense that he and Padmé would sit together. Especially considering that Padmé is the smallest of their ship’s passengers, and needs the most help staying warm. At least, that’s the reasoning Alpha gave, and when Fives looked like he was about to argue, Fox elbowed him sharply to get him to shut up.

No matter what he’d wanted to say, it would’ve been a moot point. Alpha takes his bodyguard position very seriously, and Padmé learned long ago not to argue with him over matters of security and possible bodily harm. If she really disagrees with whatever plan he has, it's better to simply act and let him follow after her, cursing up a storm and protecting her to the best of his ability. She can’t lead them anywhere at the moment though, trapped as they are. Besides. He’s really very warm, so it’s not like she has any complaints.

Aside from that one minor complaint they all share.

Namely that after escaping Coruscant and discovering in the midst of a hyperspeed jump that her sleek little cruiser had been sabotaged, they’d had to brace themselves for a crash landing on  _ Hoth. _

With the ship’s heating knocked out in the crash, this definitely hasn’t been Padmé’s favorite planetary sojourn. At least they found enough blankets to preserve whatever warmth they could until Jango arrived.

“Sit tight for a bit longer,” Jango says, ignoring Alpha entirely.

Padmé can feel her bodyguard's annoyed grumble rumbling through his chest, pressed up close against him as she is, and she leans her head back against his shoulder in a commiserating gesture. Alpha goes quiet and still behind her, so she counts it a victory and focuses on Jango’s voice again.

“Your doors are jammed, but I’ll get you out of there and onto my ship as quick as I can." There's a wicked grin clear in his voice, and his next words manage to actually make Padmé laugh, even as she fights to keep her teeth from chattering. "I've even got the heat all the way up, just for you, Senator.”

Padmé will never speak ill of Jango’s cramped, smelly, annoying, dirty little ship again.

She means it this time.

\-----

Alpha-17 is  _ dying. _

Not really. He’s actually, surprisingly, not dying even a little, which is always a plus in his book, and definitely isn’t how he expected this day to end.

Then again, never in a million years could he have predicted that this day would end with Padmé wrapped in his arms and sitting on his lap.

For warmth. He needs to specify that. It’s for warmth.

When the Senator’s ship was pulled into Hoth's orbit and he realized they were in for a crash-landing, Alpha had thought he’d failed in his duty, that they’d finally run into an enemy he couldn’t defend Padmé from. The fact that it was her old ex who nearly killed them all… It burns, a simmering fury banked in his chest, flaring every time he thinks about the kriffing traitor coming anywhere near his Senator. Anakin has long been a danger to Padmé; Alpha has plans for how to remedy that.

His blaster will be instrumental in these plans, and he shifts his hips slightly to reassure himself it’s still there, strapped rather awkwardly around his thigh, since his thermals don’t have attached holsters like his armor.

Fox had raised a judgemental eyebrow at him when Alpha started stripping off his armor, but he didn’t say anything to stop him. Thermals and body heat wouldn’t transfer through armor, after all, and Padmé didn't have thermals of her own.

They'd started off in the cockpit, strapped in and braced for the crash, and while the emergency gear did its job and kept them alive, they couldn't exactly stay at the front of the ship. The computers had been sending off an alarming amount of sparks, and though Alpha knew the ship’s failsafes would prevent any explosions, he didn’t want to keep Padmé in an area where she might be burned.

The only non-sparking area in the little cruiser ended up being right in front of the main doors, and that’s where they decided to stay until Jango could get to them.

Not that the other clones  _ knew _ it was Jango coming to meet them, but what they didn't know wouldn’t really hurt them, and was proving to be quite funny. When Jango's voice finally filtered through the speakers, the incredulous looks from Fives and Fox, silently asking why he wasn't just as surprised as they were to find out that the Senator's mysterious contact was their shared genetic donor?

Priceless.

Padmé will absolutely glare at him if she finds out he's laughing at the other clones' confusion, but Alpha has always been one to savor life's little joys. There are so few of them, after all.

Which brings him back to Padmé sitting in his lap. He’d refused to have her sit on the steadily-chilling floor of the ship, and it had genuinely seemed like a good idea at the time, but now Alpha is having to exercise all his willpower not to react to the warmth of Padmé in his arms, the faint floral scent of her hair, her vibrant eyes, bright with humor, as she turns to look over her shoulder and share her amusement at Jango’s creative cursing filtering through the comm. He knows he shouldn't be attracted to her. She's his employer, and she's far more than he'll ever…

She deserves so much more.

Padmé is full of fire, full of life, and when she speaks the whole galaxy should shut up and listen. She's intelligent and driven and incredibly quick to provide solutions to any problem she's faced with.

She's the one who knew who could help them, when Fox told her of Anakin's latest plot. Fives had been standing at his side, eyes fixed on the floor, ashamed to have been the one Anakin holocalled, the one person he'd thought would still be loyal to him. And Padmé had noticed.

Padmé is absolutely brilliant, there's no doubt about that. But there are plenty of brilliant, driven, beautiful people on Coruscant, and not one of them even holds a candle to Padmé.

Because she's not only brilliant. She's also astonishingly kind.

"Anakin knows you are a loyal man," she'd said to Fives, raising his head with a gentle hand. "He just never understood  _ why _ you are loyal, and where your loyalty lies." She'd smiled at him, kindness and acceptance and understanding offered in each word. "You do your brothers proud, Fives. You do all of the Republic proud. I wish even half my fellow Senators were as loyal to our cause as you are."

Fives' face held pride and devotion and awe, Alpha's emotions reflected there in a tattooed mirror, and he'd known that Padmé had gained another ally. Hopefully this one would help Alpha in his effort to keep Padmé safe from all harm. Fox had looked impressed as well, but he'd probably heard similar sentiments from other senators, leading the Coruscant Guard.

Of course, Padmé actually meant her words, while the other senators were undoubtedly simply paying lip service, but only time would prove that to Fox. Alpha hadn't expected to get enough time to convince him of Padmé's sincerity, on their planned offworld jaunt to quickly and quietly rendezvous with Jango, but, well.

Looks like Fox will get to see how genuine Padmé is after all.

Padmé laughs quietly as they hear Jango drop something and curse at it, and there's a part of Alpha that wants to figure out what else would make her laugh, make her smile, make her cover her mouth to try to stifle the noises she's making, like she's doing right now.

Then she shivers at the bite in the air, and it isn’t difficult to control himself any longer.

“Will you hurry it up, old man,” Alpha says waspishly, pulling Padmé even closer, not even slightly tempted to bury his nose in her immaculately pinned hair. “It’s freezing in here already, and the temperature is still dropping.” He tucks her beneath his chin, and she’s so  _ small _ in his arms. Tiny and delicate and possessing a keen intellect that she uses for the good of the people of the galaxy.

Protecting Padmé had seemed like a cushy job, when the bodyguard position became available. An easy position with a few interesting fights hopefully thrown in along the way, he’d thought, and Alpha had applied with only that in mind. Now, after meetings and discussions and that first interview, conducted by Padmé herself and an entire host of nearly-identical aides, he’s honestly honored to be her guard. Being the one who keeps her out of harm’s way is a privilege, and seeing the impact she makes in their galaxy from up close is a perk.

When he accepted the job, he'd never imagined he’d gain her friendship, hadn't even considered it as a possibility, but he’s overwhelmingly glad to have it.

He's never had a friend like Padmé. Has never known anyone quite like her. He's pretty sure there  _ isn't _ anyone quite like her.

Padmé shifts, pressing her face into his neck, and her frigid nose makes him hiss in a quick breath. Alpha’s been doing his best to keep her warm, but the temperature has to be getting dangerously low now, well-past freezing, and she’s only wearing her senatorial robes.

When they’d fled Coruscant, there hadn’t been time to pack. Padmé said she could borrow Jango’s clothes in a pinch, which had made Alpha bristle and want to laugh at the same time, picturing Padmé in a baggy armorweave undersuit. Of course then his brain had promptly supplied him with the image of Padmé in a properly-fitted armorweave undersuit, and then in proper armor of her own, and he hadn’t managed to argue for Padmé to pack a bag of her own in time.

It shouldn’t have mattered, but then it turned out that Padmé’s kriffing insane ex had somehow sabotaged her ship. Alpha’s going to be going over hangar security with a fine-toothed comb to figure out exactly who is to blame for the sabotage, but that’s a plan for later. Preferably after he sees Padmé to safety aboard Jango’s ship.

Alpha shares a concerned look with Fox and Fives over Padmé’s head, and he’s about to suggest that they all huddle together when there’s a sudden screech of warped metal from the doors.

They slowly inch apart, and as soon as there’s a decent gap, Jango’s helmet pokes through.

“Senator, your taxi has arrived.” There’s a laugh caught in Jango’s words, but the moment he sees Padmé, pale and shivering, her lips tinged with blue despite Alpha’s best efforts at keeping her warm, his humor fades. “Kriff. You alright there, Padmé?”

“Just fine,” Padmé replies, her chattering teeth giving her away.

Jango swiftly turns his focus back to the doors, and with Fox and Fives helping, Alpha knows they’ll make quick work of it.

“Well, we’d best get moving.” Padmé smiles at him and tries to stand, but Alpha tightens his arms around her. She pulls back and narrows her eyes at him. “Alpha, let me up.”

“I’ve got you,” Alpha replies, refusing to budge.

“Padmé,” Jango says with a grunt as he shoves the doors open wide. “Your robes won’t do you any good wading through this much snow.”

Padmé looks past him, at the deep snow covering the planet’s surface. It isn’t too far to Slave I, but trudging through it without any survival gear at all would be painful for anyone.

“Let the boy protect you from the snow, since he couldn’t protect you from your ex,” the bounty hunter adds, clearly not passing up yet another opportunity to needle Alpha. “He’s got to earn his keep somehow.”

Alpha grinds his teeth but doesn’t answer, too worried about Padmé to bother spending any of his attention arguing with the old man. When she sighs and gives him a resigned nod, he shifts his grip and stands carefully, trying not to move any blankets out of place. Lifting Padmé is effortless; she weighs less than some of the weapons Alpha’s handled. She stifles a startled sound, but doesn’t protest any further.

Alpha makes sure she’s secure, and shoulders his way through the pried-open doors. Jango leads the way through the thigh-deep snow drifts to his ship, the lowered ramp releasing clouds of heated air into what looks like a rapidly-worsening snowstorm. Alpha really hopes he’s wrong about that.

“You left your armor,” Padmé murmurs, staring over his shoulder at the wreck of her ship.

“I’ll get it in a moment.” Alpha says. Leaving it behind for even a few minutes grates, but he’ll set Padmé down beside a heating vent and head right back. His armor can keep.

“Ah,” Padmé says, raising her head just a bit to smile over his shoulder. They both shudder as cold air rushes into the gap between them, and Alpha tilts Padmé forward, encouraging her to cuddle closer again. “Fox and Fives have it,” she says as Alpha follows Jango up the ramp and into the blessed warmth of the ship.

Sure enough, when Fox and Fives finally get inside, they’re carrying Alpha’s armor carefully between them.

Alpha doesn't understand why. He isn't close to either of them, isn't close to any of his little brothers, really. But they're carrying his armor for him anyway. There's a strange sense of shame and confusion churning in his gut as he watches them carefully place his armor on the lone table in the small ship.

But even though he's confused and ashamed, he hadn't been worried at all. He expected to be angry, watching two clones he barely knew handle his armor, but… He knows they're trustworthy. He's known that since the moment they explained exactly why they showed up at Padmé's door.

\-----

Fives' worry is evident in his strained voice, and Fox's quiet determination to keep Padmé safe is kin to Alpha's own.

When Fives tells them that General Skywalker - calling himself  _ Vader _ now, apparently - tried to order him to kidnap Padmé and lead the 501st to attack the Jedi Temple, Alpha is ready to take Padmé and run. Let the Jedi handle their fallen golden boy. His job is to keep Padmé safe.

The best move here is for him to follow one of his carefully thought-out escape plans. Considering the fact that none of Padmé’s close allies are on Coruscant at the moment, the best plan is to get Padmé to her ship and get her as far from the planet as possible, leaving everyone else none the wiser. Reviewing her schedule proves it’s possible. She has an hour to eat and dress for the evening Senate meeting, and by the time Padmé’s fellow senators detect her absence, she'll be long gone.

Once they’ve cleared atmo, Padmé can contact one of her off-world allies, preferably someone Anakin would never suspect, and they can shelter with them until the disgraced general is captured.

It’s a solid plan. Alpha’s run Padmé through it many times. He knows that she knows what they should be doing right now.

But Padmé comms General Obi-Wan immediately to inform him of the situation, despite Alpha's protests. They shouldn’t be contacting anyone at all until Padmé is safe, but once Padmé’s made a move, Alpha’s found it’s simply best to try to keep up.

Besides, the plan is still salvageable. They simply have to move quickly, get to her ship, and leave the planet. It should be simple. But then, in a move that shouldn’t be as surprising as it is, Padmé insists on taking Fox and Fives with them.

Alpha should’ve expected it, really. He’s been guarding Padmé long enough to know how deeply she cares about those around her and the difficulties they face. Especially when she views herself as responsible.

Still, it throws a vibrowrench into Alpha’s careful  _ Get the Kriffing Hell off Coruscant ASAP  _ plan. As if Alpha doesn’t have enough problems. He’s not going to sign up to babysit two little brothers, even if one is an ARC Trooper. And the other is Commander of the Coruscant Guard.

For a moment he’s tempted by the thought of two additional competent protectors, three of them to ensure Padmé’s safety, but then he shakes himself free of the delusion. Just in time for Padmé to speak up.

“Since Ani told-” she stops herself mid-sentence, swallows and takes a deep breath. When she raises her head, Alpha can see the steel in her gaze, and he knows he’s lost this argument before it even begins. “Anakin told Fives to kidnap me. If I disappear right now, who do you think he’ll try to attack next?”

She looks at Fives, who can’t quite close his mouth all the way, still a bit shell-shocked by Padmé’s earlier words. Then at Fox beside him, his stoic and grim body language, arms crossed and helmet tilted down, closed-off and wary. He shifts toward Fives as Padmé speaks, as though only realizing the danger now.

Alpha knew already that Fives would have the ex-general on his tail, but he’s an ARC Trooper who can clearly take care of himself. He’s also an honorable man who brought warning of Anakin’s latest attempt on Padmé’s life right to the nearest commanding officer, who then brought it right to her and to Alpha. Without telling anyone else. Knowing they’d both be endangering themselves for Padmé’s sake.

Alpha sighs heavily, and Padmé manages a tiny smile, knowing she’s won.

“You’ve told no one else?” Alpha asks them, and Fox shakes his head.

“I thought it best to bring the news directly to Senator Amidala, and Fives came straight to me.”

"Did anyone see you with Fives?" Alpha asks, and when Fox nods, he grimaces.

"There were a few troopers in the halls, other senators and their staff. Plenty of people saw Fives and I on our way here." 

That means Fox is in danger as well, since people saw him with Fives. If what Anakin told Fives is true, he has friends in high places on Coruscant. Any one of them could've seen Fox with Fives, and if they leave without him, he'll almost certainly be targeted. As usual, Padmé's right. 

“Alright, Senator," Alpha says, ignoring the hint of a victorious smirk tugging at Padmé's mouth. "We'll bring them along.”

Alpha also ignores Fives' confused sputtering and Fox's stubborn stance. He'll leave Padmé to talk them into it. If those two think they can change her mind, they're not as bright as they look. Or they simply haven't spent much time around Padmé yet. She saved her entire planet at fourteen through a series of successful arguments, and she's hellbent on saving the rest of the galaxy as well. There's no way they're going to convince her not to save them too.

At least with three of Anakin’s possible targets in one place, Alpha will be able to keep them all safe. Maybe he’ll even get to know these little brothers of his, like Padmé’s been encouraging him to do.

\-----

And now, of course, they're perfectly safe, trudging through a snowstorm on kriffing  _ Hoth,  _ carrying Alpha's armor for him. And that's on top of their crash-landing because Alpha hadn't checked the ship thoroughly enough to discover the sabotage. Can't forget that detail.

There goes any respect they might have had for him and his ability to protect them.

Alpha's really nailing this big brother thing.

\-----

Alpha can feel Jango's attention on him as he brings Padmé inside, as far into the warmth of the ship as he can, and sets her up on a seat next to a heating vent. The bounty hunter doesn't say anything though, just watches as Alpha carefully wraps the blankets tighter around Padmé's chilled form.

"I'll get you some dry clothes," he mutters, barely audible through the crackling of his speakers. Padmé nods at him, breathing hot air into her hands to warm them.

Alpha takes her frigid hands in his own, chafing them to try to get some circulation back, and Jango turns, heading into the other room, both of them ignoring her pained hiss of breath.

“Can’t have you losing your fingers,” Alpha mutters, just for something to say, to give her something else to focus on. “Pretty sure you’ll need them if you want to continue drafting peace-inspiring speeches to the Senate. Not to mention continuing your daily delivery of thinly-veiled insults,” he clicks his tongue, “pardon me,  _ correspondence _ with the Chancellor. I’m fairly certain anyone you dictated your missives to would end up altering them, if only for the sake of the Chancellor’s blood pressure.”

Padmé laughs. “Losing fingers would make it much more difficult to direct my  _ polite inquiries _ to the Chancellor, I agree. Regardless, I’m sure I’d find a way to persevere.” She pauses for a moment, and when Alpha glances up at her, she’s smiling, gentle as a summer breeze. “And I’d have you to help me.”

Alpha doesn’t respond. Just drops his gaze and focuses on warming Padmé’s hands between his own. He doesn’t need to say anything, really. They both know she’s right.

There’s a quiet beep from the other room, and after a moment, Jango swears viciously. Alpha raises an eyebrow at Padmé, wondering yet again why she's friends with a bastard like Jango.  _ Probably the same reasons she's friends with a bastard like me, _ he thinks, closing his eyes against the thought. He takes the snarky voice in his head out back and shoots it.

Jango strides back around the corner, throwing a small bundle of clothing directly at Alpha's face. He catches it of course, because  _ he's _ not an old man and his reflexes are as quick as ever, but before he can growl an appropriately-threatening response to that story excuse for an attack, Jango starts talking.

"Good news or bad news?" He asks Padmé, ignoring Alpha again. Really, it's a wonder the man hasn't been shot. Again. Actually, he's been shot quite a bit, but Alpha's point is that his personality is abrasive enough that it's a miracle he hasn't been shot  _ more. _

"I think we could all use some good news at this point," Padmé says, as Fives and Fox finally join them, emerging from the storeroom after dropping off Alpha's armor.

Jango snorts. "Good news it is. Slave I is incredibly warm and dry, and it has plenty of fuel to keep it that way. You’re welcome to stay as long as you like." His voice is dry as the Great Dune Sea.

"...And the bad news?" Fox asks, clearly resigned and anticipating disaster.

"We're going to need it to survive this storm."

\-----

Jango passes Padmé a handheld holomap from the side of his chair in the cockpit, quietly conferring with her while Alpha watches from the main room, completely at ease.

Fox doesn't like it.

From what he's seen of Alpha and Padmé together, the man is almost overprotective. It's a good quality in a bodyguard, honestly, and he does know when to rein it in, but now? He's perfectly fine with Jango Fett - bounty hunter and clone template, amoral killer with blood-stained hands - laughing and joking with Padmé.

Fox wouldn't allow Jango to come anywhere near Padmé, if she was his charge, and he doesn't understand Alpha's nonchalance.

"You trust him?" Fox asks, as quietly as he can. Alpha glances at him, then back to Jango, and nods. 

"With all our lives." He says it bluntly, quiet enough that Jango and Padmé don't catch it, but still loud enough to be a firm statement of fact.

Fox can feel Fives shifting at his side, just as confused as he is. "Why?" Fives asks. 

Alpha sighs. "He's saved her life a few times now. He's saved mine, and I've spent enough time with him to get to know him by now. Jango's definitely an ass, and he’s definitely dangerous, but not to Padmé, and not to anyone she calls friend."

"He saved her life? When was this? And why would he?" Fox hasn't heard a single word about any recent attempts on Padmé’s life, or anything about Jango changing sides in this war. He's absolutely certain that kind of information would make the rounds through the troops, so if it’s true, it must have been kept secret.

Alpha laughs, and the ease and sincerity of it throws Fox for a loop. "He kidnapped her, during the first battle on Geonosis. Padmé spent a few days as an unwilling prisoner, and then a week or so plotting with Jango, and then she brought her new ally to meet with the generals. Padmé talked him into changing sides instead of delivering her to his employer, Jango convinced her to break up with her crazy boyfriend and helped her escape when Anakin tried to attack her, and they've been friends ever since."

Jango laughs at something Padmé says as she gestures to the holomap with disgust, and Alpha grins. "Jango's actually the one who suggested she get a bodyguard in the first place. I wouldn't even be here if it weren't for him. So yeah. I trust him." Alpha's grin turns wry. "We would have met up with him anyway, even if we hadn’t been sabotaged. He's Padmé's contact. We should be heading to one of his bases right now, but..." He gestures around them. "Here we are."

That is. A lot of information. Fives doesn't look like he's doing any better processing it than Fox is, but he thinks it's understandable. Their whole view of their progenitor just got flipped on its head. They deserve a few minutes to process.

\-----

"I thought Hoth was inhabitable," Fives breathes in horror as he takes his turn with the holomap, staring down at the massive storm slowly devouring the planet's surface. "That… That does not scream 'inhabitable'."

"Only the other side of Hoth is inhabitable," Fox clarifies, reaching over and spinning it to show the other side of the planet. His shoulder brushes Fives', and the ARC trooper twitches at the contact. The gentle slide of Fox's blacks against his own feels so strange. A vod's shoulder pauldron knocking against his own is reassuring, a confirmation that they're in this together, they have each other's backs, a comforting connection in the midst of a hostile galaxy.

Fox's touch is definitely a connection, but it isn't exactly comforting.

They'd situated themselves in the storage room, taking off their snow-covered armor at Fox's suggestion. They're safe here, for now. No way could anyone else make it through the storm currently raging outside, and they'll have plenty of warning before they need to armor up again. They've got time to clean their armor and let it dry out, at least.

Fox pulls back, and the feel of his arm sliding slowly away, fabric catching and dragging Fives' sleeve halfway up his forearm… That's not exactly comforting either. There's a much warmer feeling than comfort pooling in Fives' belly.

"Oh," Fives squeaks. He clears his throat, grasping desperately for a response to Fox's words, decidedly ignoring the red on his cheeks. "Why's that?"

He makes the mistake of glancing over at Fox, just in time to catch his sardonic smirk. It's good that Fives can catch that, at least, because he certainly can't catch his breath at the moment.

"Because of the massive storms on this side," Jango interjects, standing in the doorway of the storage room.

Fives startles so badly he actually drops the holomap, but Jango seems to be expecting this. He takes a quick step forward and catches the holomap before it hits the ship's decking. Shutting it off with an eyeroll at Fives' fumble, he turns to head back to the cockpit, which he's claimed as his room for their sojourn under the storm.

"Let's keep the flirting to a minimum, boys," he says, and Fives sputters at the amusement in their progenitor's voice. Clearly, he's been misinformed about Jango's personality. Rex told him that, in addition to being an absolutely horrible bastard, the man is physically incapable of enjoying himself, and that's obviously untrue, which calls into question everything else he's been told about the elusive bounty hunter, and… Wait. 

_ Flirting?! _

\-----

“How long have you owned these thermals, Jango?” Padmé asks from behind the door to Jango’s cramped living quarters. There isn’t much space in the ship, two tiny side rooms, a refresher room, and a cramped main area with the cockpit at one end and the ship's exit ramp at the other. Alpha can hear rustling fabric much more clearly than he’s comfortable with.

“Does it matter? They work just fine.”

Padmé barks out a sharp laugh, an indelicate sound Alpha has only ever heard in Jango’s presence. Not that that matters. At all. “I suppose you're right.”

Even with the door closed, it’s obvious when Padmé finishes changing into Jango’s spare thermals. The rustling stops, and a few moments later he hears Padmé’s relieved sigh on the other side of the door.

Jango chuckles. “Better, Senator?”

“Much,” she agrees, and the door opens. Even knowing exactly what Padmé was changing into, the image she presents is strange to Alpha. Her hair is still immaculate, pinned in intricate loops and coils of braids, wrapped around the crown of her head like a - well, like a crown. Her attire is old and well-worn, fraying at the hems, and far too big for her. She’s practically swimming in the clothing, but when she comes over to join them at the small table, she walks with grace. It’s like seeing a dancer in rags, or a Jedi in gem-studded finery. It’s just odd.

Alpha can’t help but think of how she’d look in his own clothing. His pants would better serve her as a blanket, and his shirt would probably fall to her knees, which should paint a hilarious picture. It definitely doesn't. It’s a mistake, to even begin to think about such things. He’s suddenly struck with the image of Padmé in his shirt, collar slipping off one shoulder, giving him the same pleased smile she’s giving him now as he passes her a mug of hot tea. He shuts his eyes for a heartbeat too long, shoving the image away. He’s her bodyguard. He’s supposed to stay alert and aware, and he needs to focus on getting them out of this situation.

“How bad is the storm, Jango?” He asks as Padmé sips from her mug. Alpha ignores her pleased sound. He’s had plenty of practice ignoring her love of tea, and ignoring her when she asks how he manages to find good blends no matter where they are. The trick is to carry an emergency supply with you, but the day Padmé finds that out is the day Alpha resigns. He wouldn’t be able to live with the embarrassment. Especially because he personally prefers caf, pretty much never drinks tea himself, and would have absolutely no way to satisfactorily explain why he carries a secret stash of tea with him at all times. Padmé can never find out.

"This storm is the worst in this region in a century, according to the weather droids.” Jango leans back, resting his head on the wall. He pitches his voice so Fives and Fox, talking quietly in the storeroom, catch it as well. “There's a reason only one small bit of Hoth is inhabited. The storms get worse every year, leading up to an eventual planetwide freeze."

The ship is silent.

“Are we going to freeze here?” Fives asks, leaning back into the main room with a look of resignation.

Jango laughs at him, and then laughs harder as Fox appears, glaring over Fives’ shoulder. “No, of course not,” he says, still laughing. “We’ll be out of here at the end of the week, at most.”

Fives’ obvious relief and Fox’s clear offense at Jango’s laughter make Alpha bite his lip to keep from joining in. It’s the tension of the situation, he tells himself. Jango isn’t actually funny.

\-----

It’s late already, when Jango comes to the rescue. It’s later still by the time they’re all inside and finally warmed up, and Jango watches Fives hastily cover a yawn. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Padmé’s jaw twitch. It’s probably the only sign that she’s hiding a yawn as well, but Jango doesn’t call her out on it. Instead he watches Alpha. The larger man notices Padmé’s exhaustion, sees her tired eyes and her rigid posture, spine forced straight through stubbornness rather than alertness, and speaks up before Jango has to.

“We need to sleep,” Alpha says, breaking into Fox and Fives’ quiet conversation. He looks to Jango and grimaces. “How many beds are there?”

“One bed, and one cot in the cockpit, which I’ll be taking.” Jango’s tone brooks no argument, but Alpha isn’t looking for one. They all know who’s going to end up taking the bed. Jango turns to Padmé and cuts her argument off before she even opens her mouth. “Little Queen,” he says, “are we all sleeping on the floor then?” His humorous tone makes Padmé smile.

Alpha can’t help envying Jango then, just a little. He has Padmé’s friendship, sure, but her connection to Jango is something else entirely.

“You can’t keep bringing that up like it’s going to end every argument,” Padmé says, still smiling. “Someone else really should take the bed. I’ll be fine on the floor.”

“Padmé. You could’ve frozen tonight,” Jango says, all humor suddenly gone. “Please do us all a favor and ease our minds by taking the bed.”

Padmé’s smile fades. Her eyes narrow in clear preparation for a fight. But, after a charged moment, she nods.

Jango nods back, and then scoops up a bundle of sheets and pillows and throws them at Alpha’s head. “Get yourselves situated boys,” he says, gesturing for Padmé to follow him into the cockpit. “We’ll just be a moment.”

Padmé glances back at Alpha and nods with a smile. It’s the only reason he goes.

\-----

“What’s this about, Jango?” Padmé asks, keeping her voice down so the others don’t hear. “You know I don’t want any special treatment.”

Jango snorts. “Yes, I do remember those discussions after the kidnapping. How could I ever forget? You argued me into bed every night after I agreed not to kill you.”

Padmé’s mouth opens and closes, but instead of flushing in embarrassment and yelling at him, as she’s done in the past, she simply shakes her head with a laugh. “You know jokes lose their effectiveness over time, right? Besides, you needed the bed far more than I did, what with that groin injury I gave you. Tell me, has your limp gotten any better since the last time we tangled?”

Jango stares at her in silence for a moment, then bursts out laughing. Padmé can hear the others stop moving, knows they’re curious, but she keeps her attention on Jango. It’s rare to really hear him laugh, unless Boba’s nearby, and she finds herself laughing with him.

“Well done,” Jango finally says, in between chuckles. “I didn’t think you had it in you.”

“I’m sure there’s a joke to be made there, but I can’t seem to find it,” Padmé murmurs, and Jango sniggers.

“Don’t let your bodyguard hear you making crude jokes,” he teases, “he’ll lose those stars in his eyes.”

“Alpha knows me well enough that he wouldn’t think less of me for a bit of crass humor.” Padmé pauses, pretending to think it over. “Although he might think you were the one who taught me and take it out on you, so I’d better keep it under wraps.”

Jango’s laughter finally peters out, allowing him to catch his breath. He sighs, one long, drawn-out sound, and gives Padmé his full attention.

“Alpha is worried about you,” he says, suddenly deadly serious, and the tension in his voice throws Padmé off. “You really scared him, I think. Give him a little while to take care of you, a few days of careful handling, and he’ll feel much better afterward.”

Padmé frowns. “Alpha knows I can take care of myself.”

“He does.”

“He knows I hate special treatment, especially in perilous situations.”

“He does.”

Jango’s easy agreement leaves Padmé with nothing to fight against, and she hates it.

“He cares about you,” Jango points out, and Padmé can tell he’s about to go in for the finishing blow. “He feels like he’s failed you, as your bodyguard, and as your friend. Let him see for himself that you’re just fine.”

“...Hells,” Padmé curses, and when Jango laughs, she glares at him. “Oh, do shut up, Jango. Why do you have to gloat every time you win?”

“Because I usually don’t, when it comes to our arguments,” he says, his voice dry and sarcastic again. He motions toward the main room, where Alpha is standing, clearly waiting on Padmé. “Go comfort your man,” he says, and dodges Padmé’s affronted swing at his arm.

“Jango!” She hisses, a blush rising in her cheeks. “Would you stop?”

“Alright,” he says agreeably, leaning back against the back of the pilot’s seat. “What do I know anyway? I’m just an old man, stuck out here in the snow with you uppity young people.”

He ignores Padmé batting at his arm again.

\-----

“Everything alright?” Alpha asks, as Padmé approaches.

“Everything’s fine, Alpha,” she says, clearly tired. “Jango’s just being himself.”

“A bastard, then?” Alpha asks, leading her into the living quarters.

The bed is neatly made with fresh sheets, while a pile of pillows and blankets waits on the floor beside it, close enough to the door that they have to step over it.

“I really don’t-” Padmé starts to say, and Alpha readies himself for an argument that he refuses to lose. Instead Padmé sighs, and sits down on the bed. “Thank you, Alpha.”

“Of course, Senator,” Alpha replies, thrown a little off guard by her easy acceptance.

Once the lights are off, and they’ve both settled down, Padmé speaks up again.

“You should call me Padmé, while we’re here.”

It’s not the first time she’s asked him to call her by name. She does, from time to time, when she’s bouncing ideas off him, or asking his opinion, or really, any time she thinks they’re in a situation where Alpha doesn’t need to act as her bodyguard.

Alpha never minds.

“Alright. Good night, Padmé.”

“Good night, Alpha.”

He listens to her breathing even out quickly, exhaustion finally catching up to her. She’s asleep within a few minutes.

It takes a whole hell out a lot longer for Alpha to fall asleep.

\-----

Fives wakes up warm. It’s not unusual, per say. He likes his blankets, often pulls on his thermals even when everyone else is barely wearing anything. He’d keep his bed filled with soft and warm things, if he could.

So it isn’t strange to wake up warm. What is strange is the fact that the warmth seems to be all around him, and it’s… breathing?

Oh, it’s Echo. They must’ve fallen asleep somewhere odd again, and any moment Echo will wake up and start complaining and squirming away, out of Fives’ cocoon of heat. Echo will swear it’s going to suffocate him one day. Fives will laugh and try to grab him again.

Just a normal day.

Fives opens his eyes.

Fox, less than an inch away, wrapped up in Fives’ arms, his thigh in between Fives’ own, his breath warm on Fives’ lips, stares back at him.

Fox.

Who Fives just spent an entire night dreaming about.

Kriff.

Fives can feel himself flushing, shame and embarrassment rising hot in his face, and he carefully releases Fox from his grip, hoping like hell that Fox can’t feel how hard he is.

“I am so sorry, Commander,” he says, so quiet Fox probably wouldn’t hear him if he were any farther away. Fives has never been so mortified. “I didn’t mean to, I wasn’t trying to,” he stops babbling and takes a breath, then closes his eyes and waits for Fox to start yelling.

Fox grumbles instead, a half-awake sound rumbling up from deep within his chest. Fives knows because he’s still plastered all along Fox’s body, and he feels the sound almost more than he hears it.

But Fox doesn’t yell. He just grumbles a half-audible apology, turns over, pulling the blankets off Fives as he goes, and somehow manages to fall fast asleep again.

Fives lays there for a little while, willing himself to disappear. When that doesn’t work, he settles for fervently hoping that Fox won’t remember any of this when he wakes up properly. And when he finally has to admit to himself that that chance is pretty slim indeed, he decides to drag his sorry self out of bed and see what he can scrounge up in the main room. Maybe Fox won’t kill him if he gives him the first cup of caf.

\-----

Fox waits until the door shuts behind Fives before he rolls over onto his back.

Kark it all.

Fives, just woken up, flustered and flushed and more adorable than a troublemaker like him has any right to be?

It takes Fox a few minutes to get his body to calm down.

\-----

Jango takes one look at Fives, handing a half-asleep Fox a steaming cup of caf with a nervous smile. He glances over at Alpha, who is very conspicuously not watching Padmé comb out her hair. He takes each pin and hair stick as she passes them over, handling them very carefully as she explains which are weapons and which can double as lockpicks. Fox takes a sip of caf and his eyes widen. The appreciative look he sends Fives is what finally makes Jango put his head in his hands and groan in self-directed pity.

“What?” Padmé asks, but Jango knows she’s asking for all their sakes.

“No flirting on the ship,” Jango grumbles into his hands, entirely inaudible.

He refuses to repeat himself.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed!!!
> 
> Leave a comment if you can! Favorite line? Favorite part? What are you excited to see in the future???
> 
> Hope you're doing well rn, and let's all say a loud "Good riddance!" to 2020, shall we?
> 
> Bring in the new year and the new fics!!! :D


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